


A Great Beauty

by MoonTickler



Category: Jjba - Fandom, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Conflict, NSFW, Romance, Sexual Content, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonTickler/pseuds/MoonTickler
Summary: At a luncheon meeting in Morioh, Rohan listens to his editor wax volumes over Josuke's good looks. Rohan is a little jealous, a little worried, and a little protective while Josuke takes it all in stride. In the end, Josuke shows him who he'd rather use his looks to catch.





	A Great Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit of an experiment in longer drabbles to play with language and explore relationships. I really hope it's enjoyable!

“Your assistant is far too gorgeous,” his editor remarked with a dreamy look. She idly stirred the coffee his so-called "assistant" brought them.

Rohan didn't look up. “He's my boyfriend, actually.”

Samiza almost spat the dark roast at him. She brushed a strand of hair from her face and leant in eagerly. “You're **dating** that gorgeous boy? Don't let him anywhere near Kyoto; Mayako would have an absolute fit if she saw him.”

“Planning a power couple, Samiza?” He asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her eyes return to Josuke as he made lunch in plain view of the sun room. He propped the kitchen door open earlier to keep the air circulating, relieving the heat from the oven.

_She should learn not to gawk_ , Rohan thought. He kept his eyes to the sheaves of paper outlining the business plan as best he could, and to an extent, it interested him. The new advertising route for “Pink Dark Boy” would see his creation going overseas with full force. 

And yet, despite the exciting news, any inkling of pride Rohan felt was overshadowed by his editor’s obvious interest in Josuke. He couldn’t really blame her, all things considered. Rohan lay the packet on the table and glanced the same way as Samiza. 

Josuke stood at the stove with a skillet in one hand, and a measuring spoon in the other, frying paninis with a look of rapt ease. He dressed in a sunny yellow tank top (a favorite from Armani that Rohan bought him) and dark pants with a subtle purple tint to them in the right light. It was a clean, simple outfit: a seriously dressed-down version of his usual wardrobe. And yet, it showed off many of his fine points.

Toned muscles sloped up Josuke’s arms and into his shoulders. Under the clinging tank top, his back curved pleasantly in towards his stomach before sliding out and up over his wide ribcage and rounding off into his thick neck. His hair, of course, he styled into his favored pompadour, with baby hairs spiked into two points in the back. Josuke looked every bit the clean, gentlemanly boyfriend of a wealthy socialite. 

The idea was that he wouldn’t draw too much attention with a simple day outfit… But Rohan didn’t blame him. Josuke was a naturally good looking young man, and he was charming to boot. Everyone who came to meet with Rohan at the house commented such. One of his lawyers even remarked that Josuke was “a great beauty”. Rohan always agreed with their words, but he never let the conversations go any further. 

He worried a little for Josuke, if he was being honest. Long ago, Rohan accepted that with fame came waiving of certain aspects of his privacy. When he was alone, or casually seeing other celebrities, it wasn’t a major problem that the press took interest in his private life. But he didn’t allow it near Josuke. When it came to their relationship, Rohan guarded boundaries with a viciousness that surprised other people. His dating Josuke was no secret, but he did not parade it about as common knowledge. Instead, he did his best to keep the pressure of the limelight away from their life together by being selectively discrete, especially when it came to his work circles. Most of Rohan and Josuke’s friends knew of their life together, but only a select few of the people at Rohan’s publishing firm did. The rest only had an inkling, but it seemed they were maliciously industrious with what little tidbits floated around.

The people at his office treated him like a jealous lover; a dragon guarding a fair maiden in a tower. He heard one member of his printing team refer to him as such within ear-shot. No direct confrontation resulted from the insult, but the man was transferred swiftly to another office. Rohan hated giving anyone fuel to fan the fire of rumors. But if there was one thing he learned from living in Morioh, it was that you couldn't be too careful. He always felt it best to nip certain problems in the bud before they could cause real damage. But, it was at Josuke’s behest that Rohan attempted to be open, if only casually, about the fact he was in a committed relationship. _‘Ya don’t have to invite them over for tea or anything. Just be collected.’_

“...agreeable to you, Rohan?” Samiza asked him, jerking him back to the stack of paper on the table. “It might take a while for the comic to take a firm hold, but the publisher is really optimistic! He claims that you’re already a cult favorite in the United States- that’s a compliment from an American,” she added hastily. 

Rohan realized that he must have been scowling while off on his inner tangent, and that his editor thought he was rejecting the proposal. 

“It’s perfectly acceptable, thank you. Forgive me, I was caught up in thinking of something unrelated…”

“I hope it’s not me being late with lunch,” Josuke interrupted brightly, popping through the kitchen door, laden with plates. Rohan watched as he fairly danced over to the table. He slid each platter into place before he took his seat to the left of Rohan. 

Samiza clapped her hands in delight. Josuke made them a spread; two paninis apiece, all browned to the color a hen’s egg, and dripping with cheese and candy-pink ham. They were complemented with small pastries so fluffy and golden, they looked like they might fly away if not for the fruit preserves gleaming like jewels in their centers. 

“Such impressive presentation! A baker **and** a model’s physique. Rohan, it’s simply cruel of you to keep this gem of a boy to yourself in this little town!” His skin felt like it was prickling, but Rohan attempted to ignore the comment by complementing Josuke’s food. Samiza did not get the hint, and continued on, “You **must** get Rohan to bring you out with him more often, Josuke. You’d be swarmed with modeling contracts as as soon as you stepped foot in the city- not to mention admirers! It would certainly get you into the spotlight a little more often.”

Rohan opened his mouth with the intent of unleashing a battalion of heavy-handed insults, but Josuke calmly cut him off. 

With his elbow raised like a soldier at attention, Josuke rubbed the back of his neck with sincere humility and said, “That is very flattering! But Rohan knows better than anyone how much of a homebody I am. I’m very fond of Morioh; it’s the quiet, humble atmosphere that I like most.” Josuke grinned, took Rohan’s hand under the table, and squeezed it. Looking at the young man, Rohan could not believe how periwinkle his eyes gleamed. 

Lunch continued smoothly, although Samiza seemed embarrassed by Josuke’s perceptive, but gracious, refusal. She ate swiftly, talking the most through the lunch hour, but didn’t finish her food. As soon as she saw an opening, she promised to call them soon and she headed back to her car with the signed papers. 

“You don’t think she hated the tarts, do you?” Josuke asked with a sheepish look at Samiza’s half-empty plate. 

“She’s just busy, as we all are. Who could dislike your cooking?” Rohan punctuated his sentiment by shoving one of the leftover tarts promptly into his mouth. 

Josuke grinned. “I suppose I don’t have to ask how **you** liked dinner, then.”

“Why would I let you into my kitchen if I didn’t like your cooking? **Delicacies** come from you when you’re in that kitchen.”

Josuke only continued to grin as he cleared the lunch plates. He stacked them with care disappeared back into the kitchen, letting the door flutter shut after him. Rohan watched it swing closed. Then he followed. 

Past the white door, Josuke drew hot water for the dishes. The suds bubbled enthusiastically up his elbows as he poured in the dish soap. Rohan walked to the sink and slid his arms around Josuke’s curvy middle, resting his head between his boyfriend’s shoulder blades. 

“Just use the dishwasher, dummy. That’s what I bought it for,” Rohan murmured into Josuke’s shirt. “Your hands will get dry and cracked from the hot water.”

“There aren’t enough dishes to start a full load,” Josuke replied. He reached a steamed hand back to rest on Rohan’s waist.

“Then be wasteful,” Rohan grumbled, muffled by Josuke’s muscular padding. 

“You’re the one who tells me to be careful with money!” 

“I only told you to be careful with **your** money!” the artist was indignant. “I make enough for the both of us.”

“Don’t pout.”

“Geniuses do **not** pout.”

“You certainly seemed pouty when Samiza mentioned giving me contracts.”

Rohan’s face pulled into a scowl. Josuke was always much more perceptive than he was credited for. 

“I simply don’t appreciate when people come to my home and practically flirt with my boyfriend before trying to sell him a contract full of stress and… **bodily pressures**.”

Josuke chuckled. “Bodily?”

“Modelling is such a physically competitive world. No one needs that kind of stress. Sweet people particularly don’t need that kind of stress.”

The tall boy through a fond glance over his shoulder at him. Josuke continued washing the dishes with Rohan clinging to his muscular back. The younger man seemed to sense that Rohan had no intention of moving, and clamped his rounded biceps over his boyfriend’s arms in a pseudo hug. Josuke swayed, humming an American song that Rohan couldn’t quite put his finger on. It sounded familiar, like he heard it in a life that seemed a million years gone. 

The artist managed a muffled “what is that?”, still unwilling to move. Josuke smelled like spices and aftershave, too good a combination to pass up.

“You don’t remember? It was an American hit the summer we searched for Kira?”

Rohan’s eyes widened before he squeezed them shut against the memories building in his mind’s eye. He tightened his arms over Josuke’s broad chest. The end of their hunt for the serial killer was a heinous stain on Rohan’s memory, for although the ordeal was long over, Josuke’s bloody face still haunted him at times. And the smile he had through the gore and the muck made it worse. 

Bless that boy, he was so good natured. 

“ _Any time I need to see your face I just close my eyes and I am taken to a place where your crystal mind_ …” Josuke sang. Rohan attempted not to squeeze the life out of him. He let his arms slide along Josuke’s curves and down to his hips, resting on his apron. He toyed with the front pockets, finger brushing something near the left hip. 

“You forgot something in your apron,” he sighed. Josuke had a terrible habit of leaving things in his pockets, a regrettable lapse when they had to do laundry. But in the moment he found it endearing. 

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Is that a wooden spoon in your apron, or are you just happy to see me,” Rohan teased, reaching to grab what he presumed was some kind of kitchen implement. 

“Ah!” Josuke grunted twisting from Rohan’s hands. The mangaka jumped back in surprise.

“What? What?!”

“Sorry,” Josuke breathed, “I, um- the way you were pressing against me earlier got me a little excited.” He leant back, one hand on the rim of the sink and the other rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. His face flushed with more than steam. 

“You could have told me, you know- instead of jumping like I burned you or something.” Rohan didn’t need to see anything to believe it; what he grabbed was way too **thick** for a kitchen spoon. 

Rohan stepped towards the younger man again, hands returning to his hips. Josuke’s brows arched. They stared at each other, Rohan’s face a canvas of intensity. His counterpart stood patiently, even if his mauveine eyes were wide with anticipation.

“Are you feeling okay?” Josuke murmured.

With some hesitation, Rohan angled the balls of his feet at the tops of his toes as he rose towards Josuke’s face. He slung his arms across Josuke’s broad shoulders, letting their torsos brush against each other. With one thrust, Rohan effectively sandwiched their erections together between their stomachs, and he gently pressed his lips to Josuke’s.

Josuke’s hands, wet with soap and water, clasped Rohan’s waist. The smaller of the two could feel his splayed fingers digging into his skin. Josuke rolled his hips, and Rohan sucked a corner of his lip between his teeth to bite back a moan. His hand slunk between their bellies, fingers stroking the side of Josuke’s length while Rohan’s erection stroked him from the other side. 

“The dishes aren’t done.” Josuke rumbled. 

“There are more important things to do,” Rohan shot back, grinding slowly. His half-lidded eyes hid nothing of his intentions towards his counterpart. 

As if on cue, Josuke lifted Rohan like a dancer, and the mangaka’s legs came to wrap around his hips. Josuke’s left hand cupped a thigh while his right went straight to Rohan’s ass, one finger delving between the crease of his cheeks while the others squeezed him through his white day shorts.

“Oh god, **Josuke** ,” Rohan hissed. His lips latched to the soft, tender stretch of skin at the juncture of Josuke’s neck and shoulder. He palmed the plump layers of muscle bunching beneath his boyfriend’s shirt, and Josuke began rolling his shoulders beneath Rohan’s hands. The artist dug his nails into Josuke’s back. In response, Josuke ground their cocks together harder. 

“Josuke, bedroom.”

“Bedroom?” Josuke asked with a coy note in his voice. Rohan, previously occupied with the soft flesh of Josuke’s neck- that birthmark of his wasn’t the only star he was seeing- snapped his eyes wide open. He knew that tone meant only one thing: mischief. 

“What are you up to?”

“Well, you did say that delicacies **came** when I was in the kitchen… And you look **delectable** to me.” Josuke punctuated the sentiment by walking back to the kitchen island with Rohan still dangling at his hips. With a lift of his knees, Josuke planted Rohan ass-first onto the tabletop, and continued his ministrations. The friction between them, while light, was tantalizing.

“You hoodlum! This is a **kitchen** , not a brothel- we **eat** here!” Although his protests were worded vehemently, Josuke could see his resolve crumbling. 

Josuke let his hips speak for him, guiding Rohan onto his back before he twisted the mangaka’s hips to the side. He then lifted Rohan’s topmost leg onto his meaty shoulder and began to grind his shaft into the cleft of Rohan’s ass. Rohan could **feel** his lover pulsing, and any protests that stirred in his throat quickly died. His head lolled submissively onto his supporting shoulder as he continued to grind in rhythm with Josuke’s relaxed, but tactical, thrusts.

Getting off in his own kitchen. Who knew it could be so easy? Their relationship wasn’t ‘new’ by any means after two years of dating. But Rohan felt cripplingly shy when it came to sex that was, in his mind, ‘out of context,’ as he put it when attempting to explain it to Josuke. Arousal was a natural reaction or latent action in any environment with high stimulus, so becoming aroused in places outside of a bedroom wasn’t strange to Rohan. However, he experienced distinct distraction, and even discomfort at times, when sexual occurrences happened outside of designated areas, like a bedroom or a shower. Trusting his partner, Rohan was more willing to indulge in sex and all its trappings outside of those areas. But the kitchen, he had avoided up until this point. Mostly because of the idea of transferring germs- all he could see in his mind’s eye was an animated 50’s educational cartoon of evil bacterias swapping between the counter and their bodily fluids. It was just too much.

He almost told Josuke as much, almost… except the look on Josuke’s face abated any protest. Through the bangs falling about his face, Rohan could see Josuke was peering at him with unfaltering bedroom eyes. The mangaka squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them that Josuke wouldn’t be gazing at him so seductively, or that his thrusts might cease to further entice Rohan to continue matching his pace with the cloth-dampened smack of his glutes against Josuke’s incessant hips. This was a battle, Rohan realized, that he was swiftly losing. But he relished in the feeling of being seduced. Intoxicated with Josuke’s desire, Rohan began moving his ass more wantonly, and gasped out a long, low moan.

He felt Josuke’s hand squeeze his thigh in eagerness, and Rohan’s nails reflexively dug at the white granite countertop. When his eyes met Josuke’s, he could feel himself tugged into their mesmerizing gaze, like a sailor drawn to a siren’s treacherous kiss. His lips fell open in the beginnings of a moan. A wolfish grin molded Josuke’s face. 

“Don’t look at me like a drooling hound!” Rohan growled, hiding his face his sleeves. How dare this young upstart think he was such hot shit! “Get my trousers off and be done with it!”

Josuke pushed Rohan’s legs away, spinning the mangaka onto his stomach, and tugged him off of the island part way. Bent over the kitchen island, Rohan heard Josuke rustling around. There was a muffled “plop” as he shed his shirt. Rohan shuddered when he heard the distinctive sound of a zipper being loosed, and the soft whisper of Josuke’s shorts. 

Rohan ground the head of his cock painfully against the table. It pulsed- aching with interest. Josuke resumed squeezing Rohan around the middle, snaking a hand between Rohan’s white designer shorts and the island. He palmed his erection through the taut cloth, causing Rohan to grunt. 

Josuke kissed shivers up the back of Rohan’s neck, and murmured, “I won’t do anything else until you start.”

“W-what?” Rohan blubbered, stiffening. 

“You heard me. You can’t say such cruel things to me and expect all to be forgiven just ‘cos I want to pound you.”

“If you’d just taken me up the bedroom in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be balls deep and we’d **both** be happy!”

Josuke’s mouth moved tantalizingly close to his ear, and he breathed, “So help me out then. Show me how to make you happy, and it’ll make me happy too.”

“Oh **God** ,” Rohan groaned, hiding his face in his arms. Josuke’s eager hips ground continuous ripples of warmth up the mangaka’s spine. Rohan felt like the yolk of an egg, delicately buoyed in juices while his insides swirled madly. If Josuke dared stop, Rohan thought he’d expire from sheer desire. 

Sucking his lips between his teeth, Rohan rolled on his back. Eyes latching onto Josuke’s, Rohan reached for one of his perfect hands and guided it to his pulsing crotch. Josuke’s mouth, quirked in a smile, followed closely behind. 

“You won’t stop if you know what’s good for you, you gorgeous pain-in-the a-! Ohhh…”


End file.
